After a full day of tripping over coworkers, dodging emotional landmines, and trying not to stare too long at Theo Anderson's forearms, I was officially *fried*. The kind of fried where your brain's still buzzing but your body wants to melt into the couch. Too bad I was standing in front of my closet, trying to decide if I should wear jeans or actually put effort into this impromptu dinner Theo had invited me to.
"It's just food," I muttered, holding up a floral dress and throwing it onto the bed. "It's not a date. Just dinner between two grown adults who've shared minor trauma in the form of three-legged races."
But deep down, I knew it wasn't *just* food. I liked talking to him. I liked the way he saw through people without being cruel, the way he deflected tension with humor, and—maybe most of all—I liked the way I didn't feel like a failure around him. That alone deserved a decent outfit.
***
Theo picked a quiet bistro tucked in the corner of the city, dim lights, soft jazz, and more wine glasses than I had confidence.
"This place is cute," I said as we slid into a booth by the window. "Romantic. Bold choice."
"I figured you deserved something that wasn't fluorescent lights and corporate spreadsheets."
I smiled. "I might cry. From the lighting alone."
We ordered—steak for him, pasta for me. He waited until the server walked away before leaning forward, voice lower than usual.
"You seemed… off today. After the retreat."
"I'm just tired," I said quickly, then sighed. "Okay, and maybe being around James again brought up more feelings than I expected."
He nodded slowly. "Do you still love him?"
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Then shrugged.
"Honestly? I don't know. I loved who he *was*. I don't know if that person exists anymore. And maybe I don't either—not the version of me that fit into his life. I'm still figuring it out."
Theo didn't respond right away. Just sat with that truth like it was fragile and real, not something to fix or dismiss.
Then he said, "You're allowed to take your time. To not know."
I met his eyes. "What about you? You always seem so put together."
He laughed. "God, no. My dad basically threw me into the company to 'toughen me up.' I'm pretty sure my whole existence is just a business strategy."
"Well, you're doing a terrible job," I said. "You're too nice."
"Don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold."
***
Meanwhile, across town…
James Arton sat alone on his couch, a half-drunk beer in one hand, the TV on mute, and his phone screen glowing with Nilla's contact. He didn't call. He could. He *wanted* to.
But he didn't.
Because today, when he watched her smile at Theo—really smile, the way she used to with him—he realized something that hurt more than any breakup line. She looked free. And maybe, just maybe, if he really did love her… he had to let her stay that way. He'd done damage. And healing wasn't something she owed him. It was something she owed herself. So he put the phone down and opened a new tab.
*Therapists near me.*
Maybe it was time *he* did some healing, too.
***
Back at the bistro, I laughed as Theo dramatically tried and failed to cut his steak into perfect pieces.
"I thought you rich boys learned steak etiquette in private school."
"I skipped class to watch trash TV," he said. "No regrets."
And just like that, the tension faded. The weight lifted. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I wasn't carrying my story alone.
And Theo? He didn't try to fix me.
He just held space for me to be whole again.
The first thing I noticed when I walked into work Monday morning was the scent of fresh coffee and new beginnings. Okay, maybe it was the cleaning crew's lemon-scented polish, but I was *choosing* to believe it was new beginnings.
"Stone, right?" a deep voice called from across the room.
I turned to see Arthur Burns—yes, *that* Arthur, the quietly terrifying head of cybersecurity—pointing at a desk two spots down from his own.
"That's your new space," he said, jerking a thumb. "You've been bumped up. Lead Analyst."
"Wait—what?"
He raised an eyebrow like it was obvious. "Promotion. Congrats. Try not to fry the system."
I stood there blinking for a solid ten seconds. A promotion. No one said anything. Not Sarah, not HR, not even—
"Morning," Theo's smooth voice cut through my daze as he strolled past holding two coffees, one of which he extended toward me like it was a peace offering wrapped in caffeine. "Congrats on the promotion."
"You knew?"
"I signed the paperwork," he said with a small smirk. "Well deserved."
I stared at the coffee and then up at him. "Are you trying to seduce me with promotions and caffeine?"
"Is it working?"
A laugh escaped before I could stop it. "Worryingly well."
***
By noon, I'd settled into my new desk, made friends with the intern whose name I absolutely would forget again tomorrow, and avoided three spontaneous James sightings like a professional emotional ninja. Things were good.
Stable.
Until my lunch break, when I found myself in the elevator at the same time as Theo, who was leaning against the wall like he was starring in a rom-com trailer.
"You following me?" I teased.
"Please. I'm not that obvious," he replied. "I actually had something to ask."
I tilted my head. "Shoot."
"There's a team dinner tonight with some of the department leads. Normally it's stiff and boring, but since you're now officially one of us"—he gave a dramatic eye roll—"I thought I'd offer moral support. You in?"
"Will there be wine?"
"Yes."
"Then I'm in."
***
The restaurant was loud, but not obnoxious. The table was filled with a mix of Theo's team, the IT crew, and a few people I vaguely knew from other departments. Everyone was buzzed on happy hour and appetizers.
At one point, Theo leaned over and whispered, "You're doing great."
"What does that mean?" I whispered back.
"It means you belong here."
And just like that, something in my chest softened. Not because of his voice, or the table of half-drunk coworkers arguing about the best Star Wars movie—but because he said it like it was fact. Like I didn't need to prove anything anymore.
***
Later, outside the restaurant under the glow of the streetlamp, we lingered.
"You're quieter than usual," he said.
I shrugged. "I guess… I don't know. I'm just realizing I've spent so much of the last few months trying to fix things, fix *me*, and now suddenly… something's going right. It's weird."
Theo nodded, thoughtful. "It's not weird. It's peace. You're allowed to have some."
I looked up at him, the soft breeze catching a loose strand of my hair. "Why are you so nice to me?"
"Because you're easy to care about."
His voice was barely a whisper. And for a moment, the world shrank to just the space between us. I could feel the words we weren't saying. The space where friendship was starting to shift into something more. But Theo didn't move in. Didn't push. Instead, he reached up and gently tucked that loose strand of hair behind my ear.
"Goodnight, Nilla."
And then he walked away—leaving me there, heart a little louder, chest a little warmer. Maybe, just maybe, this was what it felt like to grow in the right direction.